


Under The Cover Of Darkness

by pyladesdrawing



Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: Because these two are like BFFs come on son, F/M, Friendship, there might be a developing relationship if ya squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:49:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyladesdrawing/pseuds/pyladesdrawing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He just wants to be alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under The Cover Of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first Graceland story and the minute S104 ended I was struck with this pretty much painful urge to write some kind of followup so here goes!
> 
> not beta'd so all errors are my own
> 
> thank you so much for reading c:  
> xx

They say that if you live with a group of people long enough, you can tell who's walking into a room by the sound of their feet on the floor. There is no saying who this "they" is or how credible they are, but it's worth mentioning simply because for some, it's one of those universal truths.

Being an FBI agent, having the ability to read people, it didn't take long at all for Mike to figure out who was who. Admittedly, there are some mornings when they're all exhausted (from working, or celebrating, or both), when they're all equally drained, moving around the house in an almost zombified state. On those mornings the subtle distinctions are hard to well, distinguish. But now, as he stands alone in the kitchen, scrubbing away at the blood-- _the sauce_ he reminds himself. The. Sauce. On the plates and in the pot, he can tell that he's not alone, and that his guest is presumably female. (He does remember telling Briggs pretty clearly that he wanted to be alone, and the only person who'd come in anyway must be...)

Charlie.

He's not surprised by her arrival in the slightest, not even a little bit. But he doesn't want to be seen like this. He doesn't need her special brand of advice right now (excellent though it may be). He needs space, and time to clear his head, and doesn't need to be told that everything will be all right because everything is not all right- he just watched a man blow his brains out a foot away from him _after_ having that same gun pointed at his face for the umpteenth time this week and there is _nothing_ okay about any of that whether he signed up for this or not and why the _fuck_ does he get dishes on sauce night anyway because everything is red it's red in the sink and red on the sponge and in his hands and it's there every time he closes his eyes-

"Easy, Mikey. Put the pot down."

There's a moment, albeit brief, in which Mike wonders if he's been talking out loud this whole time, but then Charlie shakes her head (when did she get so good at reading minds?) and offers an easy smile. "You'll scrub a hole right through the bottom. There is such a thing as too much cleaning and if you ruin my cookware I'll have to exact my revenge."

She walks over silently, leans against the kitchen counter and watches him with this passive expression that does nothing to make him feel any better. He can almost feel the questions coming...until they don't.

"You're home early. Thought you had a date with East Coast girl from the bar."

Her tone isn't questioning at all, it's conversational. Casual. Relaxed.

Mike's mind goes blank for a minute and then "I told her there was an accident. Promised to reschedule. I- I couldn't."

Charlie nods, the passive expression still ever present on her features, but there's a softness- an understanding. "Probably wise."

He laughs, unintentionally, tears pricking his eyes again.

Fuck. Back to the dishes.

"I'm not going to tell you the things you want to hear, Mikey. But I'm not going to leave you alone right now either. In a little bit? Yeah, maybe. It's too raw right now. And you shouldn't have to suffer by yourself."

He hates how she's right because he wants to be alone and wants to scream and he feels like crying harder even though he knows he should be thankful. He's alive, when he very easily couldn't be.

Mike releases the iron grip on the plate and sponge in his hands and reaches instead for a dishtowel, drying his hands roughly to give himself something to do. He just needs to keep busy. Keep his mind and his hands busy and maybe they'll stop shaking so fucking much.

One look at Charlie, (one _good_ look) at the eyes that have already seen so much for a person so young, the eyes that have seen so much more than his own, certainly seen all of this... One look at the woman who has most likely dealt with this very experience at one point or another- it grounds him in a way he didn't think was possible. Miraculously, the world seems to spin a little slower.

That's the thing, the thing that Mike learned day one about all of them. About Briggs, the leader with a past as mysterious as the legend suggests. And Johnny, he's the joker, the life of the party. But he's also the guy you want to back up up at the end of the night when you need it. Jakes is the sarcastic one, the smart one, the one who makes you earn his friendship but commits fully when you've got it. When he first met Paige he met not only a fighter, but a strong (barring on cliché) independent _woman_.

And then there's Charlie. Charlie, who gave him the key and made him feel like he could actually make a home here. Charlie, who encouraged everything from going out surfing to approaching Briggs about Bello in the first place. Charlie, the grounding force at Graceland. The grounding force for _him_. She's a constant, _his_ constant, and now she's watching him cry in a kitchen, holding a dish rag with an expression that completely betrays how shaken up he really is (and "shaken up" is putting it mildly). Mike wasn't sure what he was expecting when he signed up for this job, but he knows with certainty that this isn't it.

She reaches out one hand, and he knows where this is going. The crying into her shoulder Rom-Com BS that he doesn't. need. right. now.

But he takes it anyway.

His hand is still shaking when she holds it up to examine. He knows what this is too, she's assessing the situation, checking for symptoms of shock. _They've already done this_ he thinks impatiently. The med team is thorough, and Charlie knows this too, but the touch does help to relax him even more.

"Come sit down," she says, voice barely above a whisper. He's still holding her hand when he finally does.

"I watched him die, Charlie. I watched him put a bullet in his head, a bullet that could have easily been in mine-"

His voice breaks. Charlie picks up the pieces.

"There's nothing in that FBI Rule Book of that will give you any help right now. There is no protocol, no "I Just Watched Someone Die- Now What?" pamphlet that you can pick up at your local police station, there is no 24 hour miracle cure. You might wake up tomorrow and feel better, but you might wake up every day for the next year with those feelings and that is okay. Everything you are feeling right now is normal- All of it is perfectly acceptable. Don't stop yourself from feeling it. Keeping it all bottled up changes you, and never in a good way."

She's right. Again. But he still has so many questions.

"How do you do this? Keep from going crazy?"

He's asked this once before, and feels like it won't be long before he's asking it again.

Charlie is rubbing circles into his skin (had she always been doing that?) and he notices that his hands aren't shaking anymore. Hm.

"You don't 'do' this, Mikey. You feel this. You live this, because this doesn't go away. It's not easy to pull the trigger, and it's certainly not easier to watch someone else do it. You may feel like you're going crazy but you're not. You're strong, much stronger than you're giving yourself credit for."

Mike wants to speak. He wants to thank her or _something_ because she didn't have to do this, to listen to him, to offer comforting words- and whether he needed it fifteen minutes ago or not, he's glad she decided to check on him.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is endlessly appreciated and if you're reading this I think you are pretty great
> 
> title comes from The Newsroom
> 
> <3


End file.
